Tales of December
by Ryeloza
Summary: A series of drabbles that all take place in December. Features over twenty different characters from Charmed.
1. Patty

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **Welcome to my newest project. I've decided that I want to do something fun this December, so I'm going to do a series of very short vignettes; one per day. In a way this is similar to the project I did last December called "What's in a Name?" in that each vignette will cover a different character from _Charmed_. In this series each story will take place chronologically in December (the 1st, then the 2nd, the the 3rd and so on), but in different years. I chose the age of seventeen as the common thread. So, for instance, Patty's story will be in 1967, Prue's in 1987, Wyatt's in 2020, etc.

I hope you all enjoy this project. I'd love any feedback you'd like to give me. Thanks so much.

_Katie_

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Patty: December 1, 1967**

Patty stood outside of the attendance office and stared at the map that had been posted on the bulletin board. The caption above the jigsaw of fifty states read: "The Class of '68: Where Are They Going Next?" Even now, as early as December, push pins had been stuck into various states with lines leading to boxes with names of schools and students' neatly printed.

All around her, people jostled past, talking loudly over the resounding slams of lockers. Today this normality was nothing but a whisper in the background as Patty's eyes wandered the map. Already she could envision the map in May, covered in push pins. At least one, she was sure, would be in Philadelphia, marking her best friend Susan's future at Penn. Multiple ones would be stuck in San Francisco; one—maybe red or yellow or green—would mark San Francisco State University with a decently long list of students' accepted. On that day, Susan would turn to Patty and say, "Patty, why isn't your name on here?" and Patty would have no response.

For her entire life, SFSU had been the plan; her future. Her mother went to school there. Her father had taught there for over twenty years. The university was where they had met and fallen in love. Her past was there just as her future was certain to be.

And now there was nothing.

The day she'd told her mother she was filling out her application she had sat in her room for over an hour watching the words on the paper become blurrier and blurrier as her eyes filled with unshed tears. Memories of lunches on campus with her father, of visiting him in his office, of everything that was important to him swam through Patty's mind and her pen simply wouldn't go to the paper. Finally, she had buried the application at the bottom of her desk drawer and allowed herself a good, long cry.

The following day, she applied for a job at a bookstore fifteen minutes from her house. Come June, she'd be able to take on full-time hours there. Come June, she'd be able to do something practical and help her mother with the bills.

Come June, this stupid map wouldn't be there to mock everything she'd lost.


	2. Chris

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **Thanks for all of the lovely reviews so far! Chris' chapter got a little away from me, so it's slightly longer than a drabble. Still, I hope you all enjoy this.

-_Katie_

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Chris: December 2, 2021**

Miss Charles was standing on a chair in her high heels, attempting to place the clock back on the wall—this marked the fifth time it had fallen this semester—when Chris walked into her room after school. Slightly impatient, Chris shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other and said, "Miss Charles?"

Precariously, his English teacher turned to face him. "Oh, Chris! I'll just be a minute. Sometimes I think this clock is more trouble than it's worth."

With the clock in disrepair, Chris glanced at his watch. He'd promised Mel and Nora that he wouldn't be more than ten minutes, but that this rate he'd be lucky if she let him go in fifteen. "I'll get the clock," he offered, hoping to speed things along.

"Just a sec—there! Got it!" Miss Charles hopped from the chair, clearly proud of her achievement, and clapped her hands together. "Now, Chris, I wanted to talk to you about the creative writing assignment we did."

Chris suppressed a groan. Every year he'd been in high school there had been a least one supposedly creative writing assignment. He'd had the same teacher his first two years of high school; Mrs. Jacobs had hated every creative piece he wrote. He'd hoped—in vain he realized now—that his junior year would be different, but apparently Miss Charles had the same mindset as her predecessor.

"What about it?" Surely his voice didn't come across as sullen as he thought?

Miss Charles shot him an appraising look as she crossed the room to her desk to dig through a large pile of papers. "I don't know if you heard about it before…" She pushed her bangs from her eyes. "Who were your other English teachers?"

"Mrs. Jacobs. Twice."

"Oh. Well then. Did she ever mention the California State Scholastic Art and Writing Competition?"

Chris raised an eyebrow, the only outward sign he would give of peaked interest. "No."

With a flourish, Miss Charles whipped out a pamphlet and handed it to Chris. "It's a state-wide competition, obviously. They take all sorts of writing entries selecting three winners and twenty honorable mentions in essay, poetry, original nonfiction and original fiction. There's a monetary award for the winners as well as publication in their literary magazine. I know the deadline is soon—"

"January first."

"—but you have a real talent, Chris. I mean, your essays have been top notch, but I had no idea you could write fiction so well. I really think that if you could get something together, or even polish up the story you did for my class, that you'd have a real shot at this."

Chris' eyes traveled from the slightly wrinkled pamphlet to his teacher; his bewilderment was overwhelming. "You liked _Appendages_ then?"

"I loved it, Chris. It could use some fine tuning, like I said, but you really did very well. Please tell me that you'll consider."

Startled, Chris nodded slowly. "Sure," he said.

"Fantastic! I wasn't going to give the papers back to anyone until I had all four classes graded, but I'll make an exception for you." Rummaging around again, Miss Charles pulled out a stack of papers so high Chris couldn't help but wonder how she didn't lose her mind grading each one. After a minute or so of rifling, she held Chris' out to him. "Just don't tell the other students I gave yours back early, okay?"

"Sure," said Chris. He shook his head slightly. "Is there anything else, Miss Charles. I should really get going. I have to drive my sister and my cousin home."

"No, that's all. But I'd love to read whatever you submit. If you'd let me."

"Sure," Chris said again. He felt stuck on a loop and Miss Charles seemed to realize it as she dismissed him with a small smile. Out in the hall, Chris leaned against the wall for a moment, attempting to regain his bearings. All he'd ever seriously wanted to do was write and to finally hear some validation was overwhelming. Here in his hands, finally, was some sort of proof that maybe someone did like what he wrote. Still, for now this would stay between him and Miss Charles. No one else, ever, needed to know if this didn't pan out. Slowly, he stuffed his A paper and the pamphlet into his backpack and started down the hallway.


	3. Penny

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Penny: December 3, 1945**

The crowds were thick that afternoon and Penny nearly groaned with frustration as she dragged her twelve-year-old brother down the street by his hand. Gordon, of course, felt he was too old for this treatment and fought her every step of the way, but Penny wasn't about to lose him in the throng of other people apparently also Christmas shopping. This should have been simple: pick Gordon up from school; take the trolley downtown; buy presents for Mom and Dad; go home. She hadn't counted on so many other people; she hadn't counted on Gordon being such a pain.

Unexpectedly, Gordon joined his left hand in the pull to get out of Penny's grasp and without thinking she whipped around to face him, causing him to topple over from the sudden lack of exertion. Most unfortunately, he tumbled right into a man's legs and him down too.

"Damn," Penny swore under her breath. Ignoring Gordon for the moment, Penny reached out a hand to help the other man out. "I'm so sorry, sir," she said, but before she could get out another word, the man batted her hand away.

"You stupid kids. What the hell do you think you're doing, roughhousing in public like that?" Taken aback, Penny physically stepped backwards for a moment as the man rose to his feet and leaned into her space. "Were you raised in a barn, you stupid little bitch? Your mother must be a lunatic to even let you out of the house—"

Penny opened her mouth to defend herself—she certainly wanted to before any of these onlookers decided to play Good Samaritan—but before she could, the umbrella the man carried zipped out from under his arm. Penny's eyes widened; the man turned around. Before he could say a word, though, the umbrella began to beat him over the head of its own accord. To escape, he hurried down the street while the other people around gawked.

In the confusion, Penny yanked a laughing Gordon from the ground and dragged him into the nearest building. "What the hell were you thinking? You can't use your powers like that at all, let alone in public!"

"Oh settle down, Penny. You get all worked up over nothing." Gordon stuck his hands in his pockets and slouched miserably. Penny resisted the urge to throttle him. What good were powers if you abused them like that? Eventually you'd end up doing something unthinkable or else dead. Especially when you were as big an idiot as her brother was.

Before she could say anything like this, Gordon said, "Now can we get on with this? I have better things to do today." Then he walked away from her.

Exasperated, Penny threw her hands in the air. "Boys!"


	4. Cole

**Disclaimer: **Nope. Still don't own _Charmed._

**A/n: **Someday I think I'll have to do more with Cole's past as a demon. It's a very interesting world to explore. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Cole: December 4, 1902**

Cole had been standing outside of the cave where the Triad convened for over an hour. Every breath he took was an attempt to stay calm and in control, despite the fact that in the next room his future was being decided without him. Mother had taught him to maintain a healthy distrust of the Triad, though, and one didn't keep one's enemies closer for no good reason. He could not afford to let them see that this affected him; he could not allow Mother to see that either.

When he was younger, Mother had seen his human half as cancer that needed eradicated. More than once she had discussed ways to destroy the human soul inside of him; to crush that weakness he possessed unwillingly. Not until he had been able to entrap and destroy Emily Gordack where Mother had been unable had she seen some decency in his diluted heritage. Still, he knew that this half of himself disgusted her and for that he used every fiber of his being to suppress that part around her.

Across the way there was a drawn out groan and Cole shuddered in spite of himself. The Triad was notorious for slaughtering those who did their dirty work; anything to maintain their position of power; anything to stay close to the Source. They used other demons and disposed of them, successful or not. The stupid held out hope that success would win them power and respect only to be vanquished when the Triad was through with them. The pathetic were those who failed; whose groans now surrounded and entrapped him.

From the shadows, one of these demons looked at Cole now, curiosity temporarily blinding his fear of the inevitable. Cole knew what was coming before the other demon even spoke.

"You're Senalda's child, aren't you?"

"My name is Belthazor," said Cole contemptuously. He would never be this demon.

"I knew Senalda when you were conceived," the demon continued obliviously. "I was on the top then. The underworld lay at my feet. I was the one that caught your mother bedding that pathetic mortal. I was the one who turned her over to the Triad. They wanted her dead, you know? Her and her unborn spawn of a human."

Cole looked away, indifferent. The ramblings of a decrepit, has-been demon meant nothing. Apparently his lack of interest annoyed his storyteller, because the other demon spat, angrily, "You know what she promised them in return for her life, don't you? She promised them you." The demon laughed, clearly certain that he had revealed something intimate. Cole, however, was quite aware of Mother's relationship with the Triad and her intentions. Some day, the Triad would bow to them.

"She told them that she would secure a way to control you. She'd get them something that you would give anything to have. Then you'd be theirs to do as they liked with you. That's why she killed your father. That's why she bottled his soul. So they can keep you in check."

"What?" Suddenly Cole's attention was focused solely on the demon still laughing at him. He tried to shake away the fear that twisted up his spine; a witch had killed his father. There was no way—no reason—

"Belthazor!"

Cole's eyes snapped to his mother, who had emerged with a triumphant expression. She spared not a glance at the other demon, who now cowered against the wall again. "The Triad has agreed to our demands. You will train among the humans to become a lawyer. You will infiltrate them in a way no other demon ever has or ever will."

Cole nodded slowly. Everything was going according to plan. _His_ and Mother's plan. The other demon had no idea what he was talking about; he was simply trying to raise Cole's ire.

Still, as Cole followed Mother out of the cave, he couldn't quite erase the niggling feeling of doubt.


	5. Andy

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Andy: December 5, 1987**

He noticed Prue before he even decided to attempt a shot from across the court. She leaned casually against the fence surrounding the court wearing black leggings, a hugely oversized sweater and a bright orange knit cap that matched her scarf. Andy hadn't seen her look so beautiful—so understated—in months. Maybe that was why he went for such an impressive shot; not that he would ever want Prue to know that he sought her admiration.

Unfortunately, he missed.

As he caught up with the bouncing basketball, he dribbled a few times and this time dunked the ball successfully. "What's up?" he asked without looking at her.

"I went looking for you at your house. Your mom said she thought you were here."

"Yep." Andy shot again.

"I heard about your dad, Andy. Joey called me."

_Fink_, thought Andy. Just last night he'd asked Joey—pleaded with him really—to not mention to Prue how hurt he was by her. For months now she'd been wrapped up in some alternate reality where she didn't look, act, think or speak like the Prue Halliwell he'd known his entire life. The fact that his dad had been shot in the line of duty three days ago and she was only now showing up was just further proof. He wished that he simply didn't care, but the truth was that he loved Prue as much as his parents or his brother; she was just as much his family. Really, he was only just beginning to realize just how much he loved her.

"Andy, I'm really sorry. I should have been there for you. I should have been there to get your call. I should have gone over to your house after school on Thursday when you were absent. I'm—I'm just really sorry."

Finally, Andy turned to face Prue. Some part of him expected her to be biting her lip or wringing his hands, proving some sort of insincerity he now associated with her. All he found, though, was the Prue he'd always known, standing tall with only hurt and uncertainty lingering in her blue eyes. Without thinking, Andy tossed the ball away and strode across the court to speak to her directly.

"You've been a really shitty friend lately, Prue."

"I know. I've been wrapped up in my own life. And after that night last month…part of me just couldn't face you. But that's no excuse. I'm sorry."

Andy shook his head. He wondered if fixing their friendship was as easy as an apology. Seventeen years together meant it should be, didn't it? Would he really toss her aside just because he was pissed?

Sighing, Andy turned and threw an arm over Prue's shoulders, leading her away from the fence towards the court. She walked with him, turning to give him a small smile that let him know that she was well-aware that things weren't perfect yet. And then, inexplicably, Andy leaned slightly and kissed her lightly. He never would be able to explain why.

Prue looked at him with an odd expression, opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and then finally pulled the ball from under his arm and turned away, dribbling. "Horse?" she asked.

Andy nodded.


	6. Prue

**Disclaimer: **What's that? Still don't own _Charmed._

**A/n: **I decided I had to take advantage of Prue and Andy being in the same year. A continuation from chapter five.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Prue: December 6, 1987**

Prue double-checked the bags she had packed by the door: a pan of lasagna; rolls; salad; and a two-layer chocolate cake. Personally she'd only made the salad, of course—it was about all she could handle. Andy had eaten over at her house enough times that she knew he loved her grandmother's cooking though.

Just as Prue tucked the last item she had into the pocket of her jacket (couldn't risk her sisters seeing after all), Piper came into the kitchen while pulling on a pair of mittens. "I hope the food's alright," she fretted. "I still think that there might be too much chocolate in the cake."

"Andy won't care. He loves chocolate."

Still, she could tell Piper was ready to continue her anxious rambling. Prue was only saved by Phoebe's entrance. At twelve, Phoebe had long outgrown her little crush on Andy, but for tonight she was willing to perform an enthusiasm and jokester act that she had abandoned some time ago in order to be more grown up. Prue was grateful for their help. With Andy's father still in the hospital, his mother by his side most of her waking hours, and Joey away at college, she was sure he could do with some company. She and her sisters were practically family anyway.

"Let's get going," said Piper. "I have a chemistry test tomorrow that I haven't even begun to study for."

"That's fine," said Prue. "You can bring Phoebe home after dinner."

"What about you?"

Prue shrugged and unconsciously patted her pocket. After her talk with Andy yesterday—after his surprise kiss—she'd come home completely bewildered. She wasn't quite sure what to make of his actions, wasn't quite sure how she even felt about having been kissed by her best friend. The mistletoe in her pocket was an excuse to do it again; maybe for a little longer. Just to figure things out, of course.

"I'm sure we'll find something to do."


	7. Leo

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **Probably the obvious choice for Dec. 7th. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this story.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Leo: December 7, 1941**

Leo crept into the basement as quietly as he could on the rickety, wooden stairs. His father sat on a stool at his workbench, fiddling with a clock he was making for Leo's mother for Christmas. For a moment, Leo stood on the bottom step and watched his father; he seemed smaller, hunched over the workbench. "Pop?" said Leo tentatively.

Across the room, his father straightened up and cleared his throat.

Leo took the response as invitation to join his father, so he crossed the room and sat on another of the stools. Purposely, Leo thought, his father kept his face turned slightly away to hide his eyes. "They're not finished on the radio, are they?"

"No," said Leo. "But I didn't see you leave. Why are you down here?" Most of the day, he and his family had been huddled around the radio listening to the reports about what had happened at Pearl Harbor. It wasn't until his mother had brought in some cold sandwiches that Leo had noticed that his father had left the room at some point.

"I needed to get away." Finally, his father turned and faced him; Leo was surprised to see how tired he looked. His eyes, particularly, seemed weary and sad. Unexpectedly, he stood and wrapped his arms around Leo, hugging him tightly. Once his surprise wore off, Leo returned the hug, somewhat worriedly. His father had always been a reserved man, and since Leo had become a teenager, there hadn't been many hugs between them.

"You're a good kid," his father said when he pulled away. He kept a hand on Leo's shoulder and patted him. "I know you're going to do what you have to do. What you need to do. I just wish things could've been different for you."

Leo gave a sad smile. "You think we will declare war then." His father began to nod before Leo even finished the sentence. As stoically as he could, Leo nodded back. Tomorrow at school, Nathan would probably be just itching for the action, but Leo couldn't imagine sharing his excitement. Now, he mostly felt nervous, reserved and intensely proud. After the war, would he be as his father was?

"I'll be okay," Leo said, feeling some urge to reassure his father. His father clapped his back one more time and sat back down, returning to his clock. Taking this as a dismissal, Leo turned to go back upstairs. It wasn't until he was five steps up that he heard his father return the comfort.

"You'll be okay."


	8. Dan

**Disclaimer: **I just wish I owned _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Dan: December 8, 1989**

For the fifth time in the past hour, Dan cursed in his head and mumbled a promise under his breath that he'd get his little sister back for this. She had been the one to volunteer for this babysitting gig. She had been the one so excited for tonight. Then this afternoon she'd run up to him at school whining about a emergency German club meeting that he was fairly certain she was making up. Did the German club really have emergency meetings? Especially on Fridays? She'd been vehement though and when she'd promised him an additional twenty bucks for the night he agreed.

Now he wished he hadn't.

First of all, once five o'clock hit and Karen still wasn't home, Jenny had begun to whine that she was hungry. Then she kept insisting that Aunt Karen had promised her that she could help cook dinner. Maybe the fact that the promised dinner was tater tots and French toast should have tipped him off that Jenny was fibbing, but Dan thought the menu sounded appealing. He'd also thought that it would be easy. He was an idiot.

He rang out the dishrag he was using again, although he was fairly sure that wiping the counter was only smearing the combination of eggs, syrup and powdered sugar around. Jenny sat on the floor eating her dinner; she was covered head-to-toe with syrup and looked sticky to the touch. For the moment she was happy, though, so that was one less thing he had to worry about. Instead he could concentrate the many, many ways he would spend the rest of his life getting back at Karen.

From the floor, Jenny wrapped her arms around his leg and hugged him tightly. Dan remained unmoved and shook his head. "Nope," he muttered. "Never again, Jenny. Never again."


	9. Sam

**Disclaimer: **I will trade this horrible cold I've caught for the rights to _Charmed_. What, no takers? Darn.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Sam: December 9, 1851**

"I didn't want you boys to know. We agreed that if someone were to find out what your father and I have been doing here that we would rather the consequences fall on our shoulders, not yours."

Sam ran a hand over the outside of the wall; the seam that revealed there was a door was nearly invisible to the naked eye. His twin brother, Matthew, was inspecting the gears that opened the door, seemingly as impressed as Sam was.

Their older brother, John, was too focused on their mother to share their revelry in the secret room attached to the study. "We live here too, Mother. Did you really think we would not notice this?"

"We've been doing this for seven months, John," said their mother rather sardonically. "And you didn't notice anything amiss, Sam did."

Sam grinned at Matthew. Truly, Sam wouldn't have gone snooping without Matthew's peaked interest. Neither of them had imagined that their parents' big secret was that they were helping runaway slaves.

"We aren't going to tell," said Matthew. Sam nodded in agreement and even John eventually acquiesced with a slight head bob.

"And you won't mention anything to Mabel or Sarah or Richard."

"Of course we won't," said John with a pompous hypocrisy. Never mind even considering if their younger siblings had a right to know what went on in their own house or that he was speaking on his brothers' behalves. Matthew smirked at Sam and Sam turned his head to hide his returning smile. They often found humor in John's pretentious manner.

Though certain their mother knew exactly what they were saying without words, she simply said, "Thank you for respecting our wishes,", effectively stealing the wind from their sails.

"All right," Matthew said.

"We won't tell."

Mother smiled; John scowled.


	10. Piper

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Piper: December 10, 1990**

Why oh why had she insisted on white curtains? Phoebe had wanted dark blue. Dark blue would be heaven right now. Dark blue would be blocking any ray of light from the room. Dark blue would protect her. Dark blue would…

…do nothing to stop the sound of her grandmother's voice in her ear. "Piper Halliwell!" Apparently Grams was under the impression that yelling at this time of day was acceptable. If she only knew that Piper's head was about to crack in two, maybe she'd stop. Except Piper couldn't quite make her cotton-filled mouth say this, so she chose to simply burrow further under the covers.

"Piper!" Grams obviously couldn't take a hint. "Your sisters helped you into bed last night, but don't think for a second that I wasn't aware just what time you stumbled in and what state you were in."

Piper moaned in response.

"I always said your mother started you in school too early! You should still be in high school! You never acted like this before you started college!"

If Piper were at all coherent, she could have made the argument that she'd been going to college for an entire semester now and this was the first time she'd gotten drunk. She might also argue that both Prue and Phoebe had been in this state before, and Phoebe was only fifteen. Then she could add that both Prue and Phoebe had gotten drunk in far more irresponsible places than their friend's dorm room, surrounded by all girls while watching Molly Ringwald movies all night. And that she was just celebrating her birthday early since all her friends would be leaving for home at the end of this week.

Since Piper couldn't articulate any of these responses, she merely groaned again and pressed her face into her pillow. Finally, Grams took the hint. "We will discuss this again, young lady, once you've gotten your brain back."

The slam of the door never sounded so peaceful and painful all at the same time.


	11. Christy

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **You would not believe it if I even tried to explain how my brain got to this story. More author's notes at end.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Christy: December 11, 2001**

Lately she had heard them whispering about sending her on a mission. Usually they thought she was sleeping when they had these discussions nearby, and she was always more than happy to play along. She learned a long time ago that the best self-preservation was to know more than they thought she knew.

Dumain, who she was more familiar with—he had been there since the beginning—had been in favor of sending her on this so-called mission for weeks now. His ally, a more recent visitor that she knew Dumain did not wholly trust, continually argued that sending Christy on the mission would revert her. He didn't want her to interact with other humans; "You saw what happened to _him!_" he pointed out every time. But Dumain continued to believe she had become fully ensconced.

She let Dumain keep his false beliefs. There were certain things she still remembered about _before_. Sometimes she still heard snatches of laughter in her dreams; whiffed a scent of pine; recalled a moment of running in joy instead of fear. These moments were always fleeting, but they made her curious. Most particularly, she remembered her sister. Not her name or her voice or the games they might have played, but her existence. When she first arrived there, they used to threaten to kidnap her sister too if Christy did not do as they asked. And some days, she knew, she wanted her sister there so badly that the threat seemed more like a promise.

If Dumain knew these things, he wouldn't trust her. More than anything, Christy longed for Dumain's complete trust, and the power that would come with that respect. She never let anything slip.

"You're a fool, Dumain!" Hurriedly, Christy shut her eyes and steadied her breathing. They must have argued elsewhere today, but something in Dumain's cohort's voice gave her hope. A different outcome, perhaps?

Dumain and the other demon entered her prison and she forced her body not tense as Dumain used his normal method of waking her: an energy ball directed at her chest. At the sudden shock, Christy sat up and looked around wildly; feigning this surprise had become a specialty. "What do you want?" she demanded, after pretending to get her bearings.

"I have a treat for you. A mission."

Christy's heart raced faster. This, finally, was her chance to find out what the murmured fights were actually about; this could finally be her chance to prove herself to Dumain once and for all and secure more freedom.

"There's someone I need you to kill. A human called Cole Turner."

* * *

**A/n: **I am thinking about making this into a longer story someday. Quite honestly, I never gave Christy more than a second's thought before I wrote this out. Now I'm slightly intrigued.

Anyway, great thanks to those of you who have given me feedback. I'm so glad you're enjoying these drabbles.


	12. Darryl

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Darryl: December 12, 1988**

Darryl was quite sure that he was experiencing what would be the worst hour…two hours…surely not more!...of his life. This morning he'd simply thought he was doing his parents a favor; they both worked, surely going to pick up his grandparents from the airport after school was the least he could do. He'd been positive that small talk about school, basketball, his girlfriend Talia plus whatever tales of retirement his grandparents had would surely last them from the airport to his house. Then, having done his duty, he could leave his grandparents to his parents to entertain and go meet Talia for pizza. Or to make out. Whichever.

But now…now… For the fifth time Darryl groaned internally, resisting the urge to punch through the windshield. Fifteen minutes away from the airport and they were in bumper-to-bumper, horrific traffic, complete with too many eighteen-wheelers to count. At the rate they were inching along, he'd be lucky to get his grandparents home in time for dinner.

Not to mention that they'd run out of small talk about thirty minutes ago. That left him with the grandparents he usually tried to avoid.

"Oh, Darryl, you drive so well," said his grandmother. "George, doesn't he drive well?"

"He drives like an ass! You need to be more aggressive, Darryl! Fight the traffic, it's the only way!"

"Oh don't you listen to him, sweetie. He couldn't drive with his eyes closed."

"Why would I drive with my eyes closed, you crazy old bat?"

"George! Watch your language in front of Darryl. He's just a child!"

Yes, another hour of this and Darryl was positive he'd punch through glass to escape.

* * *

**A/n: **Inspired by my own hellish drive through Akron tonight on my way to pick up my sister from school. A three hour drive turned into a five hour drive; thank you rush hour. That's also why this chapter is barely making the cut of Dec. 12--luckily I was home by 11pm.

Thank you to all of you for such lovely feedback. I'm glad you're enjoying this story.

-_Katie_


	13. Phoebe

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **Sorry this chapter is a day late. My computer has a horrible virus so things are going a little slowly. Hopefully I'll have Dec. 14 up before the end of the day.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Phoebe: December 13, 1992**

Phoebe lounged on the front steps, legs crossed, bouncing her right foot. She might have looked impatient or angry or upset except for the huge grin on her face that contradicted her physical actions. Generally by this time of the day, she was out of the house and far, far away from her family—who drove her more crazy than any family had a right too, she thought—but today was an exception. Today was a day for celebration.

Today Grams had finally kicked her moronic husband, Richard, out of the house.

That morning Phoebe had woken to the sound of screaming (nothing unusual there) and very seriously considered climbing out of the window to escape unnoticed. As she opened the curtains, however, she saw the trunk of Richard's car open and half-full of his crap.

"He's leaving! Oh! Piper, he's leaving!" she had said, practically jumping up and down.

"Hooray," Piper had responded before rolling over in bed. Later, Phoebe was sure, she'd be more enthusiastic. None of them were particularly fond of Richard, especially Phoebe. All he and Grams seemed to do was fight and the whole house felt tense because of the anger. Phoebe had been waiting for him to get the boot since the day he moved in.

So this Sunday morning she'd been lying outside enjoying the view of Richard leaving forever. Behind her, the door opened again and she craned her head back to see Richard and Grams, not shouting; Richard had an ugly lamp in one hand and his car keys in the other. This was it. _Bon voyage_, _adios_, goodbye forever you major asshole.

"I don't ever want to see you around here again," Grams said. For the first time in a long time, Phoebe admired the steel tones of her grandmother's voice.

"Don't worry about that!"

Richard stalked over to his car and tugged open the front door. As he got in, he turned to look back one more time. Phoebe gave him a tiny wave of her fingers and then left only the middle one up. With a huff, Richard turned on the car and drove out of their lives forever.

"Good riddance!"

"You can say that again."


	14. Henry

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own _Charmed._

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Henry: December 14, 1991**

"I think this will be good for you."

Henry rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. Randall's life mission was apparently to keep Henry out of jail. Thus far, nothing he had said or done had done the trick, and Henry wasn't entirely sure why he didn't simply give up and leave him the hell alone. Everyone else in his life certainly didn't care what he did; for the life of him he couldn't figure out why Randall did.

"I know I've said it before, but you're lucky you got off with community service."

"Jesus, Randall, just shut up already. I know I got off easy. But I still just want to get this over with."

Randall slapped him on the back of the head, as per usual when Henry got mouthy. "Shut your mouth, Henry. Show a little respect."

"You signed me up to read to kids, Randall. How the hell do you think I'm going to react?"

"Will you just trust me for once? I know you. You're going to do great."

"I don't know squat about kids."

This, of course, was a lie, and Randall knew it. His latest foster parents had had a string of kids younger than him in and out of the house over the past three years. Henry had had more than enough experience taking care of them.

Randall pulled to a stop in front of the hospital and grinned at Henry. "I'll pick you up in two hours, okay?"

"I'll take the bus," said Henry.

"Okay. See you at three."

Henry shook his head and slammed the car door. Someday, Randall would give up too. And Henry would be proven right. Again. It was only a matter of time.


	15. Victor

**Disclaimer: **Wait, what? I still don't own _Charmed_? I never would have guessed!

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Victor: December 15, 1966**

"So I'm getting married next Friday!"

Nancy clapped her hands together, practically bouncing with excitement, as she looked from Victor to Robert, apparently expecting them to share her enthusiasm. Victor merely turned his head to look at his brother; Robert seemed to share his incredulity about their sister's announcement. Taking the lead, as usual, Robert turned back to Nancy and said, "You're getting married?"

"Yes."

"To _who_?" asked Victor, unable to edit his astonishment.

"His name is Louis Gannon. He's a folk singer. He also sells vacuums door-to-door."

Victor thought for sure that his eyes were about to bug out of his head and he kicked Robert under the table when he heard his older brother snicker. As insane as it seemed that their sister was about to marry Louis Gannon, whom no one in the family had even heard mention of before, Nancy was clearly thrilled. Unfortunately, she picked up on their amusement.

"Look, the reason I'm telling you is because it's not going to be a big deal. Me and Louis and the justice of the peace. His grandparents are coming. I knew that if I told Mom and Dad…okay, Mom…that they would tie me up in the basement or something until I forgot about Louis completely. But I want someone to be there for me. So will you two come?"

Victor felt any humor he'd had deflate immediately and he could tell Robert had had a similar reaction. All three of them were more than familiar with their mother's issues with control. She still hadn't forgiven Nancy for "throwing her life away" by becoming a preschool teacher. This surprise marriage to someone they'd never met probably wouldn't improve their relationship.

"We'll be there," said Robert. Victor nodded in agreement.

Nancy beamed. "Excellent! Dress is really casual. Louis is going to wear a hemp suit."

This time they did laugh wholeheartedly.


	16. Sheila

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **So very, very random tonight. I was inspired by my own experiences here.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Sheila: December 16, 1987**

"This is my favorite part of the holiday shopping season," said Regan. She leaned against the counter by the registers in a way that Sheila knew (even from her mere two weeks of working at the store) that she shouldn't be. The burst of people checking out had ended, so they had a few minutes to pick up the hangers and clothes around the desk.

"What is?" asked Sheila. She still felt shaky from the previous rush of people; yesterday had been her first on the register and it was surprisingly overwhelming.

"The husbands. I love watching them wander around. They all look so cute and helpless. A guy in a women's clothing store is like a person in a foreign country."

Sheila paused in mid-motion with the shirt she was hanging and looked at the man Regan was watching. He had two pairs of earrings in his hands and he was looking back and forth between them with an expression of complete consternation on his face. "Poor guy," said Sheila. "We should ask him if he needs help."

"And spoil the fun? I would pay to watch my husband do this."

Sheila shook her head. "When I get married I'll just give my husband a list."

"Oh, those guys are fun to watch too. They wander all over wondering if what they have in their hand matches their wife's description."

"You're horrible, Regan."

"You better marry someone really observant, Sheila."

Sheila threw a look over her shoulder at Regan as she approached the poor man with the earrings. Whoever she married, she hoped, wouldn't have the same troubles. "Can I help you?" she asked.


	17. Wyatt

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Wyatt: December 17, 2020**

There was a loud knock on the door and from the stairs Wyatt could hear Mel and Chris begin a fight about who would answer. With a sigh, he called out, "I'll answer it!" and crossed the floor to the door. When he opened the door his eyes widened in surprise. "Lilly?"

"Hi Wyatt."

Wyatt had known Lilly for years. She'd been a friend since they were in elementary school and later his first kiss, his first girlfriend. In all those years of knowing her he'd always associated her with being full of laughter; light and bubbly. Even when she had moved and had been crying at her going away party, she was still lovely Lilly. Now, looking at her, he barely recognized that girl.

Lilly tucked a piece of her hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear and then crossed her arms over her chest. She had clearly been crying earlier; her green eyes were still red and puffy. "Can I come in?" she asked, and Wyatt shook himself out of his daze and held the door open for her. The moment Wyatt shut the door she threw her arms around him and hugged him so tightly he could barely breathe.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," she whispered against his neck. "I've always felt safe here."

Completely bewildered, Wyatt patted her back awkwardly, wondering what made this girl who he hadn't seen in two years show up on his front door a week before Christmas. But with Lilly holding tight to him, her tears wetting his skin, he couldn't bring himself to ask her yet. Later, he supposed, everything would come out.

For now, a hug would have to do.


	18. Billie

**Disclaimer: **And I still don't own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Billie: December 18, 2003**

Billie dragged her feet on the way home from school, purposely walking as slowly as she could. Her mother had told her this morning that she was planning to decorate for Christmas this afternoon and after twelve years Billie knew perfectly well what that would entail. When she walked through the door this afternoon, her mother would be ineffectually hiding tears, quite possibly even drowning her sorrows in a good bottle of wine. One Christmas after another it was the same old story.

The real trigger was Christy's stocking. Nothing reduced her mother to the reality of grief as quickly as the red and white stocking hung on the chimney and the knowledge that yet again it would remain empty, though Billie had a suspicion that her mother still bought Christy presents each year _just in case_. _Just in case_ felt as though it had become the family motto after all these years: Dad didn't take the new job in Denver, _just in case_; Mom kept all of Christy's belongings, _just in case_; there was still a cake each year on Christy's birthday, _just in case_. _Just in case_ continually broke their hearts and Billie had no idea how to stop the perpetual heartache.

A lot of the time she feared that the reason she missed Christy the most was because her abduction had left the family torn apart. If Christy came back, there would be a chance to heal. If Christy came back, there would be no more _just in case_. She felt horribly about this because she knew that she should want Christy back because she missed her sister; truthfully, she could barely remember her once constant playmate and friend.

Outside of her house, Billie stood for a moment staring up at the Christmas lights glowing in the twilight. Her house looked so normal; so happy. And it was all an illusion, just as so much of life was. With a deep breath, she headed up the stairs and opened the door. Inside she heard doleful Christmas music coming from the living room and a muffled sob, and she braced herself for another holiday of more_ just in case_.

* * *

**A/n: **Details, details...For the life of me I can't remember how old Billie and Christy were when Christy was abducted. I'm going with five and seven here, respectively, and if I'm wrong I apologize. My computer is still acting too wonky for me to look up the information.

Six chapters to go. Thanks for sticking with me so far!

_Katie_


	19. Glen

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Glen: December 19, 1994**

This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

His hand drifted down and squeezed Paige's ass, pulling her flush against his body.

Such a bad idea.

Glen wasn't even sure how he'd ended up with his best friend's tongue down his throat and her breasts pressed up against his chest and one of his hands completely tangled in her dark hair.

But was a terribly bad idea. Paige was his best friend. They'd tried this dating thing before and it had been a catastrophe. And she was his best friend.

God, what was she doing with her hands? She had to stop. Oh, what a _bad_ idea.

Paige moaned into his mouth and Glen became completely unhinged. He had to get to the couch, now. Without much thought, Glen began to guide her towards the couch, his eyes still closed. She felt so fantastic, so perfect, so _not_ Paige-his-best-friend that he never wanted it to end.

So of course the next moment he drove Paige right into the Christmas tree. She pulled away to shriek, and still stuck together like glue, they and the tree all tumbled to the ground. He heard ornaments shatter; he heard the tree stand scratch against the hardwood floor. He was lying on top of Paige in a forest of pine needles.

"Oh fuck," Paige said.

Such a bad idea.


	20. Lillian

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **Sorry I'm a day late with this one. I worked most of this weekend and the mall is opened late because of Christmas. But you all get two in one day because of the delay. I'm not sure if that's a good compromise or not. Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Lillian: December 20, 1941**

Lillian stepped out to the front porch and pulled the wrap she'd grabbed on the way out more tightly around herself. She was perfectly aware of Leo sitting on the porch swing, lightly rocking back and forth, but she faced the other direction, looking off of the porch at the tree-lined street. Deep down she knew exactly what Leo was there to tell her and she wasn't going to be the one to initiate the conversation.

She stood and Leo sat for nearly ten minutes before Leo finally said, "I go away to school in two weeks."

"I know," said Lillian, nodding at the night sky. She still couldn't bring herself to look at the boy she'd loved for more than two years now. Not with the certainty of what he would say weighing so heavily on her heart.

"I've already decided that when I turn eighteen in May that I'm going to enlist. But you knew that."

Lillian's breath caught at the words even though she had been expecting them. After all, her older brothers had all enlisted just last week. She'd known Leo would too; it was the kind of person he was. Still, part of her had hoped that with him graduating early and starting medical school in January that he might not. At least now the burden of anticipation had dissipated.

Slowly, she turned and looked at Leo. He was watching her with anxious eyes and instinctually she crossed the porch to comfort him. She sat beside him, so close that their legs were touching, and entwined her hands with his. Before she could say anything, Leo said, "Lillian, I want to marry you."

Lillian smiled sadly and squeezed his hands. "I want to marry you too," she said. They'd discussed this before, always thinking about far into the future, once Leo had finished school. Now that future seemed much more foggy and unclear.

"I mean now, Lillian." She looked up at him, surprised at his words. She was still in high school; how could he mean… "As soon as you graduate. Right before I go away. I want to marry you."

"Leo…"

"Say yes, Lillian. You know I love you. More than anything. More than anyone. I want to know that I have you to come home to even when things are at their worst. You're already my reason to keep going even when I don't think I can. That can only mean more if I know you're my wife, just like we've always planned. And I love you."

"You said that already."

"Say yes."

Lillian nodded. "Yes."


	21. Coop

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Coop: December 21, 2012**

They'd had cake—chocolate with chocolate icing—and ice cream—more chocolate because he loved it so—and opened presents—a mug that said "World's Best Daddy!" from Nora, a book of poems from Phoebe and a picture from Lena that she said was a dinosaur but looked more like a purple cloud. Then, as they had every year, Coop took Lena in his lap and Nora squeezed into the chair next took him while Phoebe washed dishes and Coop talked about how he was "born."

"Cupids don't have a mommy and a daddy like everyone else," he explained. Nora hung rapt at his words even though she had heard the story before. "And they aren't born in the hospital. They aren't ever even babies."

"So you've always looked like you, Daddy?"

Coop nodded. "Yep. Because cupids aren't really born, they simply come into being. Any time someone makes a huge, fantastic, awe-inspiring sacrifice for love, a cupid springs to life!"

Lena, slightly restless, stood up on his lap and started to pat his hair. Nora, however, clapped. "So seventeen years ago today," Coop said, eliciting a sigh from Phoebe, "I popped into the world."

"And this year will be the best, right, Daddy?"

"Yep," said Coop, grinning. He looked from Nora's bright blue eyes up to Phoebe's smiling brown ones. "I think it will be."


	22. Meli

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**A/n: **Special thanks to **d** for letting me know I had the year wrong in the last chapter. That's what I get for switching things around a bit. Also thanks to **Princess Pinky**for giving me a brainstorm for this chapter. I'm not planning one on Melinda Warren, but I decided to put a hint of her in for you. Sorry, I know it's not quite the same, but it was a big help for this chapter. And of course, thanks to everyone for the reviews!

-_Katie_

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Meli: December 22, 2024**

"Melinda Warren was our age when she got married! Can you believe that? Imagine getting married now. And then having a baby just a year later!" Meli shook her head and then looked up from her notes to gauge Nora's reaction. Her cousin hadn't even moved; she still lay on her back, her head leaning off of the edge of Meli's bed. "Nora!" Meli slapped her leg lightly.

"Give me a break, Mel. Tomorrow is the last day of school before break and you want to worry about homework? Mr. Telsar isn't even collecting our outlines until _after_ vacation."

"I thought we agreed to get it done now so we wouldn't have to do it on break. Remember _that_?" Meli rested her elbows on her crossed legs and dropped her chin into her hands.

"I changed my mind. Let's go out or something."

"It's nine o'clock on a Sunday."

"Don't be a stick in the mud, Meli."

Meli bit back a groan; Nora was becoming less and less recognizable as her life-long friend by the day and she wasn't quite sure how to deal with the fact. Not to mention that the idea of getting together to do research on their mothers' half of the family had been her idea to begin with. As if she didn't have enough to worry about trying to figure out what to do about the fact that her father had been born in 1924.

"It is interesting, you know," she pointed out weakly. To her, the information was, but she knew that this was no selling point for Nora. She couldn't have been less interested.

"Whatever. I'm going to split, Mel. You sure you don't want to come?"

Meli shook her head and picked up pile of letters she had found between Melinda Warren and her husband George. Sad as it might have been, the letters were certainly more interesting than watching Nora and her boyfriend make out. "No. You go ahead. I'm going to just finish this up."

Nora sat up and looked quizzically at Meli for a moment before sighing. "So she got married at seventeen, huh?"

Meli grinned.


	23. Elise

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Charmed_.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Elise: December 23, 1972**

"You're breaking up with me?" Elise gawked at her boyfriend of six months. They'd gotten together to exchange Christmas gifts and she'd just given him a leather jacket she'd spent months saving up for. And what had he said? "Oh wow, Elise, thanks. But…uh…well, this isn't working out."

"I just think we're not right together, you know?" Peter ran a hand lovingly over the leather. "This is great though. Thanks a lot."

"No way, jackass!" Elise wrenched the leather from Peter's hands and wrestled herself into the coat. The sleeves covered her hands and the jacket hung sloppily on her, but come hell or high water she would wear it every day if it meant pissing Peter off. "Asshole," she added for good measure.

"What the hell? You can't take back a present!"

Elise rolled her eyes. "I just did. Deal with it." And for good measure she kicked him in the shins. "Merry Christmas, jerk!"

"Elise!"

She just kept walking and would never look back.


	24. Paige

**Disclaimer: **Twenty-four chapters and I still don't own _Charmed_. Oh well.

**Tales of December**

a story by **Ryeloza**

**Paige: December 24, 1994**

Her cousin Lisa had gone with her fiancé to his church this Christmas, but Peter had come home from school and lazily shrugged into a nice sweater to join them. Paige honestly had no idea why she had agreed to come; she hadn't been in a church since her parents' funeral and to mass since her freshman year of high school. At the time she hadn't thought going would be a big deal—and it would please her aunt and uncle—but now she hesitated at the back of the church, even as her family proceeded up the aisle to a pew.

The front of the church was aglow with light and the warmth of a rainbow of poinsettias. Everything about it spoke of hope and promise and love and all Paige could feel inside was a strangling grief and guilt that had been ever-present since her parents' deaths. And she couldn't do it. She couldn't bring her feet to move; couldn't bring herself to sit and sing and pray for the next hour while her parents—who had believed so wholeheartedly—lay buried in the cold earth outside.

She could see her uncle turning to come back and see what was wrong and panic rose within her; she had to get out. Before she could turn however, a hand slipped into hers and a voice whispered in her ear, "Are they going to kick me out because I'm not Catholic?"

A smile bloomed from her inside out and Paige turned to look up at Glen. "What are you doing here?" she asked. She and Glen had been so busy with family activities that they hadn't seen each other since their impromptu make-out session the previous week. She still wasn't even sure what it meant, but for now the fact that Glen was in her church holding her hand was more than enough for her satisfaction.

"I'm escorting you to church like a proper young gentleman," said Glen with a waggle of his eyebrows. Paige stifled a giggle and sent a reassuring wave to her uncle, who seemed relieved to see Glen there. Once he had turned his back on them, Paige leaned up and pecked Glen on the lips, not caring whether or not she should.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you." Paige nodded, touched because so many people had said those words to her over the past eight months, but Glen was one of the few who she knew meant them. "Merry Christmas, Paige."

Impulsively, she kissed him again. "Merry Christmas."

-_Fin_-

* * *

**A/n: **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story! I'm glad that you all enjoyed it so much; I had a ton of fun writing this. I'd like to wish everyone a very happy holiday and a great new year. I'm sure there will be plenty more from me in 2009 since I am obsessed. Thanks again.

-_Katie_


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